The Underdog
by akathine
Summary: Ivan Braginski is an introverted, awkward transfer student who moves from Russia to the sunny hills of California. At first picked on and then later suggested to try out for the school's football team due of his large size, Ivan discovers his natural talent for the game. Of course, this doesn't sit well with the star player and captain, Alfred F. Jones.
1. Chapter 1

Ivan Braginski. Seventeen, and ready to face his biggest challenge head on. After just moving from Russia, he now had to do the inevitable.

Go to American high school.

Even though Ivan loved to learn, he'd learned a few things he wished he didn't. Mostly about the horrors of what American high schoolers can be. Stories of swirlies plagued him every time he went to the bathroom, and he was terrified to see his locker, because despite his size, he had nightmare of being shoved into it. Ivan dreaded going to school on his first day, even going as far as to say a prayer in front of his home's front door.

With that all done, he took a deep breath, put his scarf just a bit more up, and walked out into the world he couldn't escape.

Alfred F. Jones was your typical high school stereotype come alive. With blonde hair that fell just the right way and blue eyes that made every girl swoon, he was a teenage heartthrob. His looks were great, and his skills greater. Alfred was by all means an athlete. He was good at everything he did, whether it be track or baseball and anything in between. But his love for all American football overcame everything, and with hard work and sweat, he made his way to quarterback for his school's team in no time at all.

And though Alfred may have cared for his sports, he was also a genius in school. Got good grades, was a total teacher's pet, the whole ordeal. He especially loved science, where everything was always changing, no matter what the time.

Yes, in the eyes of many, Alfred was the perfect boy. But the many flaws he truly had were about to shine through, and it was all going to be because of a certain Russian boy.

As usual, the classroom of 4B was noisy, with everyone talking about everything and nothing at all. In the middle of it all sat Alfred, smiling away with his teammates from football. There were also some girls around them, hoping to get to talk to the school's star players, but the boys were too busy discussing the latest video game. Just as Gilbert, the school's linebacker was telling his friends about the video game going to be made of him one day, the teacher came in. And as usual, everyone stopped, sat down, and listened.

The teacher, Mr. Wang, called out for a few stay voices to settle down, and smiled. "Well students, I hope you all are glad to be back from your weekend." A wave of groans washed over the room accompanied by a chuckle from Yao. "Glad to hear. But I have some exciting news for you. We've got a new student joining us today. He came from Russia not too long ago, and I don't want anyone making fun of him, got it?" His response was multiple nodding heads and a few yeses, but the class knew of a few that wouldn't take the words to heart.

"Good. Now class, I'd like you to give a warm welcome to our new student, Ivan Braginski!" Mr. Wang opened the classroom door, signaling for him to walk in. And he did, but only after a few second passed by.

Some of the class gasped quietly, while others got smiles, eager to mess with the newbie. Alfred just stared and thought, this kid is gonna get killed!

Ivan was by no means small, but he was very shy. He never liked how big boned he was, which lead him to cover up in the most amount of layers he could without getting heat stroke. His clothes were baggy and gave him a look of a homeless teen and he hid his face behind a slightly wore scarf. His hands were eaten up by his sleeves and he constantly tried to keep them up. To say the least, he was a big target for bullies. Honestly, Alfred felt bad for him.

"Ivan," Mr. Wang said, "Why don't you say hello and tell us about yourself?" He smiled at him, hoping to make him more comfortable.

"…vahn." He whispered.

"Um, didn't catch that. Do you mind speaking up Ivan?"

"I-It's pronounced ee-vahn…"

"Oh, I'm sorry." He offered an apologetic look, but it seemed more like he was sorry for him. "So, anything you wanna say about yourself?"

"No…" Ivan replied softly. If possible, he dug his face even deeper into the scarf.

Mr. Wang's look was definitely a sorry one as he dismissed him to take a seat. Ivan made his way to the back of the classroom, heads turning his way from every direction. There were some snickers, quickly hushed by the teacher, and the room was almost pin drop silent.

While Ivan sat down, Alfred had on a face mimicking Mr. Wang's. Being the star student/athlete he was, he never was picked on, thus never understanding what it was to be like Ivan. Maybe, Alfred thought as he turned around, I should go talk to him at lunch. Get him to open up a bit. He stole a glance back at the Russian student and grimaced. And a new wardrobe would be a plus, he thought with a smile.

As the class began, Ivan was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to notice what the teacher rambled on about. Well, he thought, it isn't as bad as I thought it would be. But then again, Ivan's idea of bad was the floor opening up to a fiery Hell while his fellow students laughed down at him. Yeah, it was surely better than he thought. He took a chance to look up and looked straight at the board. The teacher is nice, Ivan continued, and the students have not done anything harmful yet. He smiled slightly, almost unnoticeable.

That's when something small and wet hit his right temple. Confused, he reached up and grabbed the object, only to be met with a blob of paper. Ah, he thought, this is what people would call a 'spitball'. Another one followed suit, this time squarely on his forehead. He picked up chuckles from across the room. By now his smile was gone, replaced with a frown. He sighed and picked the other off his head.

Ivan was going to hate this school.


	2. Chapter 2

The class was passing with tortuous slowness.

Adjusting to a new environment was hard enough, but Ivan's tensed anticipation of the worst to come from a high school in the supposedly fun, busy moving, and well known state of California had proved to be unfortunately accurate.

Besides the spitballs he was the target of during only the first few minutes of his first class, he could already hear the hushed whispers and snickers somewhere in the mass before him about his physical appearance and his prominent accent. Ivan wanted to shrink away and melt down in his chair to nothingness to escape the obvious distasteful or amused glances at him, but he knew it was an impossible feat to accomplish. He sat completely straight, posture stiff and uncomfortable, and hoped they would soon cease.

But as time passed and Mr. Wang carried on discussing the importance of history of the world - China's in particular - on the advancement of technology in the modern day world and how far humans have progressed over the several thousand years they have lived, Ivan found him gazing around at his fellow students to observe his new classmates. He had previously tried to concentrate and had feverishly scribbled a few notes to avoid all the looks, but he couldn't suppress his curiosity.

There were a few clearly arranged clumps of students who liked to sit closely together in their various cliques. Ivan didn't want to start labeling groups immediately, but there were obviously some girls flinging notes on each other's desks and giggling while exchanging meaningful looks; some students who were trying to pay attention but were continuously being distracted; a few who were seriously paying attention to everything Mr. Wang was saying and studiously and meticulously taking notes; and, of course, the group of athletes of whom the male sex dominated in this particular case.

Ivan believed they were called "jocks" here in the United States of America. He couldn't say he understood why, but he was aware Americans utilized a large range of slang. They tended to group and flock together, and he knew there was a cliché that the "jocks" ruled the school, prowled the hallways between classes like they were the top predator on the food chain, and apparently liked to push other groups in the student body around and bully some social outcasts.

So far, the cliché seemed to be hold at least a few grains of truth to it; the general direction of the spitballs were originating from the cluster of guys – one of them was an albino, much to Ivan's curious surprise – casually leaning back in their hard and uncomfortable seats provided by their school, and were seemingly surrounding one particular student with golden, sun-kissed hair. It reminded him of sunflowers – warm, sunny, and loved by all who laid eyes upon it.

The other was turned half way towards him, beautiful cerulean eyes settled on him with a touch of concern and sympathy. He wore glasses on his face, but instead of hiding away his eyes like most spectacles did for other people, they instead did more to focus and frame them wonderfully. Despite his muscular build, Ivan found himself that he was very pretty and had to avert his eyes when the American's made contact with his.

Ivan had never really cared too much about people's level of attractiveness, in the long run. He was not usually admiring people and it did not really matter what their gender was, because sometimes he just had an occasional attraction to certain people. It was safe to say he was beginning to cultivate one for his fellow student; but that was probably one of the worst things that could happen right now to him. He would just quietly suppress it and all would be fine.

Alfred noticed Ivan looking at him, and offered a pitying smile when their gaze met for just a brief moment. The Russian looked away quickly, tearing his eyes away immediately with a slight tinge of pink on his cheeks. _Wow, is he gay for me?_ was the first thought that ran through Alfred's head, and he quickly pushed it away. Sure his ego was big, but it wasn't _that _big. The kid was probably just feeling a little bit warm in here; especially with the layers of clothes he seemed to be wearing that were even a large amount for the autumn, all with a long scarf wrapped securely around his neck to top it off. It was usually still very warm during this time in California, but Alfred didn't ponder the subject for too long.

See, the thing was that Alfred wasn't gay. He was heterosexual. Just bicurious.

Even though his parents were both gay guys and married to each other and his twin brother Matthew may be gay and dating his teammate Gilbert Beilschmidt didn't mean they had an influence or anything over him. He was obviously supportive of gay marriage and a lot of liberal ideas for equality, so it wasn't too surprising that he would be okay with a guy having a crush on him. In fact, Heta High School itself was actually quite liberal and had a few clubs such as the Diversity Club and the Gay-Straight Alliance to support more minor social groups. Which, perhaps ironically in this school's case, was never the reason why kids were picked on here and instead it was for any other social standing or some other issue they had. Of course, there were occasionally a few scorned the school's support of such equality; but those students usually stayed quiet for their own good because if they didn't, they would become the social outcasts and scorned themselves.

Heta High School was both a progressive and regressive case at the same time, in a strange way. Liberal, yes, but that didn't excuse the large cases of bullying that still occurred. Even Matthew used to be picked on at one point – by Gilbert of all people – but now they were dating. Yes, it certainly was very strange.

"Give him a break, guys," Alfred said in a low voice to his teammates, being reminded of how upset Matthew was everyday when he would come home. Besides being a hero on the field, he liked to be a hero in any other way he could too and did his best to preventing people from being picked on when he could.

Mathias and Gilbert lowered their straws and pouted, but both decided it was best not to try to protest this one. The rest of the guys snickered to themselves with bemusement, Yong Soo especially, before Mr. Wang irritably called out, "There will be a quiz on all of this at the end of class. I hope you'll be prepared!"

There was a collective amount of groans that resounded loudly through the room, but Mr. Wang didn't have any compassion for his students and their lack of interest in his lesson. Alfred wasn't too bothered since he had been glancing at the board every now and then to review what was being said and groaned more for the fact that they had go through the annoying process of being quizzed, but Ivan inwardly began to panic. He searched the white board for hints on what the quiz could possibly be about, and then down at his few scribbled notes. It seemed to be focused on current modern day technology and how it became to be due to inventions in the past by the countries around the world, and a quick glance at the clock and his schedule informed him he had a little less than fifteen minutes before the class ended and most likely ten before the quiz was handed out. He decided it would be a good idea to stop daydreaming and looking around and start to finally pay attention again to his new teacher's lecture.

It was only later, as he was gathering up his things to leave for next period and the quiz had been completed and handed forward, that Ivan realized no more spitballs had been fired at him.

* * *

**Hello everybody! Akakata7 here. This is my first collaboration fic ever, and I'm writing it with the lovely jacthine (jacthine . tumblr . com). She wrote the first chapter, and I wrote this one. We plan to alternate back and forth with each chapter, so she'll be writing the odd numbers and I'll be writing the evens!**

**We hope you enjoy!**


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